Azuveya: Fury Oh Fury
by Kira Kyuu
Summary: Aloe Potter (fem!HP) wasn't sure how she got here - 'here' being in what seemed to be a young girl's body, four-hundred-and-some-odd years into the future, and at risk of being killed by an alien empire, but it seemed like something her luck would come up with.
1. My Heart Beats

**AN: **So, this is a new story. This will cover from HP's introduction to the end of Halo: Reach, before the start of Halo: Combat Evolved, and will be AU – so keep that in mind! I will be using words in different languages – primarily Hungarian – so if you see a mistake, please tell me. Translations will be included at the end of each chapter. Also, if you have questions, please ask them! I am more than happy to answer, unless it's too spoilery for the story.

**Azuveya: Fury, Oh Fury**

**Chapter One: My Heart Beats**

Let it be said first and foremost that Aloe was not stupid. She knew, somehow, someway, that she was no longer who – where – she had been, despite not quite recalling what had happened. The steady sound of muggle machinery, the smell of muggle medicines and sicknesses, and the pervasive ache throughout her whole body told her this. The witch felt for her magic, nearly crying out loud when she felt only a tiny fraction of what her core had been. Even then, it trickled like water through Aloe's grasping 'hands', nowhere near as potent or as strong as it had been before this. . . incident.

A door creaked open, finally urging Aloe to open her eyes. The light pierced them, though, causing pain to spike through her skull. The person – brown haired and pale, though a blur to Aloe – gasped, then ducked out again, calling out for a doctor and for someone named John. The witch blinked her eyes, trying to rid them of the blurriness. A sudden bought of exhaustion and her weakened magic flaring heralded the return of her sight.

Aloe turned her eyes onto the woman, assessing her. Dark brown hair, pale flesh spotted with freckles, bright blue eyes – a total stranger. Yet she looked at Aloe with recognition, with happiness. . . with love. It made her chest ache with longing.

"Kelly," the woman sighed in relief, coming to sit at Aloe's side, taking her hand. _Who is Kelly? _Aloe wondered, _And how is she mistaking me for . . ._ The witch's thoughts trailed off as she realized just how small her hand was. It was a young child's hand. There was a simple tag on her wrist:

_Black, Kelly Sex: F  
DOB: 14/06/2511 Adm:06/06/2517  
Attending Dr: DuFresne, Matthew_

What? _What?_ She – Aloe wasn't six years old. She . . . _There isn't really much I can do about this, though. Not with the amount of magic I have. Just what the bloody hell happened to me?_ Aloe wondered, shocked. In the future, _and_ de-aged? Was it a potions accident? A spell?

"Kelly?" the woman asked, shaking Aloe's hand gently. Worry was clear in her voice. _What happened to her daughter? If I _am_ her daughter, why don't I remember more?_

The witch took a deep breath, forcing her eyes away from the hospital tag, and stared at the woman. "Who are you?" Aloe asked, knowing almost as soon as those words passed her lips, she was breaking the woman's heart, "W-Where am I?"

Before the woman could rouse herself from her apparent shock, the door opened, admitting two men. One was in a typical muggle doctor's outfit – _At least that doesn't seem to have changed much _– while the other seemed to be in a uniform. Both men had dark hair and dark eyes, though the doctor's were a dark blue to the other's hazel, and they both seemed fairly tan.

"Kelly," the doctor greeted with a wide, genuine smile, "How are you feeling today?" Aloe stared at him silently, then let her eyes shift warily between the three . . . the three _adults_. She waited for the woman – Missus Black, presumably – to speak.

"Doctor DuFresne," the woman managed to choke out, "She – Kelly doesn't seem to remember anything." The doctor's eyes widened in shock, the smile vanishing as worry took its place. He had such an expressive face.

"Is this true, Kelly?" DuFresne asked, already walking forward to grab a – a thin metal pad at the end of her bed. The equivalent to a clipboard?

"I don't – . . . I'm scared," Aloe whispered, hunching into herself, "I don't remember any of you. I don't remember who I am. Why am I here – where _is_ here?"

More worried looks were exchanged between the adults, the least expressive of which was the man in uniform. "Your mother," the man in uniform finally said, indicating Missus Black, "Is Eva Black. I am your father, John Black. You are Kelly, our daughter. You collapsed a little while ago, and we brought you to the hospital. He is your doctor, Matt DuFresne. You are six years old, and you are ill."

Aloe was quiet, musing on that information. She studied her hand conjoined with Eva's. Finally, she nodded slowly. "Okay. What am I sick with?" she asked quietly. They turned to DuFresne, who shuffled uncertainly.

"We. . . We aren't sure, to be perfectly honest. Your heart just shut down of its own accord – we can't figure out why. Then your lungs did, about a week ago. Both managed to re-establish – to, er, start again on their own, with little help from us, but. . . again, we don't know _how_ or _why_," the doctor admitted reluctantly, "We would like to run a few tests, to make sure nothing else seems to be at risk." He looked at the Black adults, no doubt seeking permission.

Aloe felt a scowl flicker onto her face, but quickly shook it away. Just because she knew she was an adult mentally, didn't mean _they_ knew that, and she couldn't exactly _tell_ them without seeming insane. This would take getting used to.

"So long as your tests don't hurt her," John allowed, a frown in place as he studied his 'daughter', worry shining in his hazel eyes.

"They shouldn't," DuFresne was quick to reassure.

Except they did. Kel- _Aloe_'s nerves seemed to be oversensitive, as if she had been under _Crucio_. Anything heavier than a light, barely-there touch stung. Needles certainly hurt far worse than she recalled, and her migraine worsened with each 'test'.

This would take _a lot_ of getting used to. And she _still_ didn't know where she was.

**AN:**__So, this entire storyline (up to the end of Halo: Reach) is complete. The next part (Halo: Combat Evolved to the interim between Halo: CE and Halo 2) is being written now.

Comments and questions are welcome!


	2. So I Hold it Back

**AN: **_Again, a reminder: This is AU. Expect things to go AU. Questions can be directed to me at any point. I suppose I should have pointed out earlier that this will contain heavy references to H4: Forward Unto Dawn, the Halo books, as well as the games, and quite possibly Red vs Blue._

**Chapter Two: So I Hold It Back**

Aloe slowly grew used to being 'Kelly' – sickly Kelly Black who was often in hospitals, but still lively and edging on hyperactive when able to move freely. The mystery of her body failing and regenerating wasn't quite solved, either. Judging by her meagre amount of magic, Aloe had come to believe that most, if not all, of her magic was used up in keeping her body alive and forcing it to be hardier with each 'failure'.

It was a large concern to her, as a person's magic could become too used to doing one thing – very well, granted – but in turn became less versatile. Such examples were seen in Dumbledore and Minerva's abilities with transfiguration, and Ginny's affinity with charms. The most versatile of people she had met were Fred and George.

If Aloe ever became healthy, she likely wouldn't be able to do anything other than heal. Aloe didn't mind _too_ much, though she would miss the versatility of magic. As it was, she was grateful for having a family now – even if she had taken the place of their true daughter. Eva was kind, though fully capable of being harsh and even frightening. Her maternal grandparents had been military personnel, and her brother had a job somewhere classified, though he called semi-frequently.

John, as it would turn out, was a general for the United Nations Space Command, the military, science, and exploratory branch of the 'United Earth Government'. He was away half of the time, but visited fairly often, always doting upon his 'daughter'. Aloe was a touch ashamed to be enjoying his attentions, as she wasn't his daughter. The weak witch grew to ignore that reluctance, however, and took her time to enjoy this life while she could.

They lived in what seemed to be an average house in the suburbs of 'Elysium', on Eridanus II, in the Eridanus system. She was homeschooled by Eva, and Doctor DuFresne had a habit of giving her gifts – books, mostly, a fair few on ailments and injuries. Aloe readily devoured every tidbit of information she could get her hands on, eager to learn about where she was and to supplement her previous experiences.

By the time Kelly was fourteen, she began to remember her 'death'. It had largely been due to her predictability with saving innocent lives and the machinations of the enemies she had made up to that point. Aloe had saved the innocents, though – except for the one that _hadn't_ been a civilian, being the one to orchestrate the trap.

By sixteen, she was certain she would choose to fight for the UNSC. She heard of the terrorist acts committed by the Insurrectionists in spite of her father's attempts to hide it from her. Eva died to those terrorists – an _accident_, as she was merely 'caught in the crossfire' – and Aloe – _Kelly_ didn't take kindly to people harming what was hers. The one time she chose to be selfish, and they take her _mother_ away.

After that, the Blacks – what remained of the Blacks – moved to Circinius IV. Once Kelly was seventeen, she asked permission to join the Corbulo Military Academy. Her father had to pull a few strings – mostly to the tune of the Academy ignoring her past ailments – but she got in. She got in, and managed to prove her doubters wrong.

Her squad was an older one – two of their members had washed out and were replaced with recruits, and when most of them graduated, they were replaced by more recruits. The squad leader was another senior cadet by the name of April Orenski, with whom Kelly got along with fairly well, in spite of Orenski's seriousness. The recruits were JunJie Chen, a Chinese boy who was from a civilian background; Thomas Lasky, a Caucasian boy with military ties; Chyler Silva, a Caucasian girl with military in her blood; Michael Sullivan, who, like Lasky, was Caucasian and possessed military ties; and Walter Vickers, an Irish-descendant with possible military ties.

They had a lot of potential. More than her first squad had – more than Orenski has. Let it not be said that Aloe wasn't capable of manipulating people. She nipped at the heels of her teammates in their 'specialized' areas, forcing them to become better and better. Even outside their specialized fields, she tried to help them – not the same way as Orenski, by yelling and being cold and distant, but instead by becoming friendly and _showing_ them how to do as she did. How to become better.

Kelly's body grew better and better, though, and eventually grew to be _stronger_ and _faster_ than it ought to have been, compared to Orenski and Silva. Bizarre dreams became a common occurrence, though she attributed them to the changed military atmosphere, of becoming more involved with her squad.

Sometimes she spoke to her father – well, far more frequently than any other cadet did. It was at one of these meetings that John brought up her change in scores. "I'm pushing at my squad," Aloe had replied simply, blinking gunmetal-green eyes at her father.

"Pushing?" the general asked, a frown in place. He seemed concerned by her behaviour, in itself odd. So long as Kelly did well, he didn't seem to care overmuch as to what she did.

"They have potential," the witch elaborated, "I want them to reach that potential. I'm already reaching the end of my fourth year here, and I've shown what I can do, so I thought I would help them."

His dark eyes studied her, clearly curious. "You think you can do that?" There was a touch of doubt to his voice. "What about your squad leader – Orenski?"

Kelly tilted her head, wondering how to word this. "Orenski's good," she finally allowed, "But I'm sure that the team can become _better_. I've been trying to get Orenski to loosen up, but she takes combat far too seriously for her to be safe in her mental state. To get out of it as unscathed as possible. She lacks determination, as well, beyond proving herself as capable. Versatility, as well, for a commanding officer, though that may simply be my opinion."

John continued to study her for a long moment. "Six months. You have six months to get them to show this potential. If they don't show it, I want you to stop holding back. Am I clear?"

He couldn't force Kelly to do anything, but she knew that _he_ knew that she would at least take his opinion into consideration. "If they don't work out, I will stop holding back," she agreed, lips widening slightly into a grin.


	3. In the Spring I Sprout

**AN:** Yay, another installment! For those of you unfamiliar with Halo 4: Forward Unto Dawn, the entirety of it is on Hulu. I'd recommend familiarizing yourself with it, if you haven't already.

**Chapter Three: In the Spring I Sprout**

Making Hastati Squad show their potential was a feat in and of itself, given how little they meshed. JunJie, Walter, 'Sully', and herself were closest out of them, so it was easiest to push at them. Chyler and Thomas were distant, as was April. The three boys improved the most, startlingly quickly. They reminded Kelly almost of herself, when she began to realize her potential and the full extent of the changes her magic wrought upon her body.

Even before she had hit puberty, Matt – as Doctor DuFresne had insisted to be called after her tenth visit to Carlos Schwabe Hospital – had noted the peculiar strength of her body, except for her organs. It was her organs that had a tendency to fail, or falter. Everything else was strong – her flesh; her nervous, circulatory, lymphatic, and muscular systems; all fully functional, nearly beyond so, in fact. Kelly's body did not falter more than once – not for the same problem, in any case.

Of course, different ailments could – and typically did – befall the same organs. One such example could be cancer of the lung, asthma, chronic obstructive pulmonary disease, and cystic fibrosis. They never occurred more than once and always cleared up in extraordinary time frames. Study of her blood had done little to show _how_ it was possible, and the Blacks as a whole did have government officials come knocking more than once, but Kelly had never been outed as Aloe or as a magical.

Barbs had been sent her father's way, as well, as if to prod him into admitting he had access to magic. Kelly was hardly certain of that, but it was the conclusion she had drawn. Their not-so-subtle emphasis on '_magic_' and '_miracles_' did little to sway her opinion. Even Matt had been questioned thoroughly. Beyond that, however, Kelly's condition was kept fairly quiet as a whole. They had no answers for how she healed and recovered so well with little medicinal input, and seemed to have no desire to bring the wrath of the public down onto themselves.

"Kelly?" She shook off her musings, turning her to bunk's door. Oddly, it was Lasky that stood there, shifting from foot to foot.

"Yes?" she offered after a too-long moment of silence. Lasky shifted again, glancing down the halls.

"You – You've been helping the others, right?" he asked, nervousness creeping into his voice, "I've seen you sparring with JJ and the others. I was wondering if – if you could help me?"

Gunmetal green eyes narrowed, wondering at his change. The first time she had offered to spar with him, he had refused, ending up with Silva. The boy was rather determined to get better, to _be _better, but he had an annoying tendency to refuse assistance – at least from her.

"Why?" The simple question seemed to throw the other cadet off.

"Why – why what?" he demanded defensively, a scowl leaping into place.

"Why are you seeking me out now? I offered earlier – and, if I recall correctly, you refused my help then. So, why now?" she elucidated, a frown ticking down her own lips. Lasky mumbled something that she just barely could make out.

"Speak up," she ordered sharply, eyes not leaving his face even as it was ducked.

"I didn't think you could help me, all right?" the boy angrily snapped, "You're smaller than everyone else here!"

The witch tilted her head, far from offended. She had always been small, even as Aloe. Eva was also on the small side, and John was far from the typical imposing soldier type, so it seemed logical that Kelly was on the small side, as well. Finally, she asked, "What changed your mind, then?"

Lasky's lips were a thin slash across his face, dark brows drawn downward. "Colonel Mehaffey suggested I come to you. She said you were more than able to help me."

Colonel Keela Mehaffey. . . A friend of her father's, as far as Kelly knew, but she had little direct contact with the colonel herself. Hm. Perhaps Colonel Mehaffey had other reasons for choosing Kelly, but what they were, she didn't know.

"Fine. After supper, we'll go to the training room. I'll test your close quarter combat capabilities then. Be ready," the witch offered, already assessing his body. He seemed to be weak, strength-wise, and was likely on the slower side, especially compared to her. Kelly didn't know his C.Q.C. scores, either, but he had a sharp mind, as far as she was aware. Such potential he possessed.

The 'test' went. . . fairly well, all things considered. Kelly's friends were present, taking turn sparring amongst themselves. Lasky had shit for stamina, but he did – as she had previously believed – have a good head for analyzing. He still ended up on the floor.

The fourth time, Lasky let out a vicious curse, but remained where he lay. JunJie and Walter both let out barks of laughter, while Sully manoeuvered Lasky up, offering him a bottle of water. The exhausted teen accepted the offering, guzzling down half the bottle.

"How do you keep up with her?" he finally demanded of the others once his breathing was under control.

JunJie let out an inelegant snort. "_Keep up?_ There is no 'keeping up' with Kelly. Even when she's holding back, we can hardly block or dodge her. She was going easy on you." Another laugh bubbled out of Walter at Lasky's shocked face.

"Don't worry," Kelly advised, "You'll get to their level soon enough, if I have anything to say about it." There was a half-smile dancing on her lips, amusement clear. The antics of her friends eased her worries over inviting Lasky to join them.

In spite of Lasky's fears, however, it had taken the better part of a month for there to be a significant improvement in his abilities. In that month, the majority of the squad didn't practice their C.Q.C. nearly as often as they could have, partially due to their studies requiring just as much, if not more, time devoted to them. Thomas' disobedient tendencies were. . . softened, so to speak, in that timeframe, but not utterly eliminated.

Of the group – despite Kelly's attempts – he listened to her the most. Not Orenski, not Silva, nor any of the others – _her_. Which, out of all the outcomes she had hoped for. . . wasn't quite one Kelly was looking for. She didn't want them to follow her directly. She had enough of that during her own war. The witch would give advice, training, what-have-you, but she did _not_ want to lead. Not anymore.


	4. Tapped Into

**AN:** I hope you enjoy :D Please leave a review – I do like hearing what you think so far!

**Chapter Four: Tapped Into**

JunJie was almost startlingly agile. He was the one to give Kelly the most trouble in the C.Q.C part of their training. He forced Kelly to get better in some ways, as well. Sometimes, he managed to surprise her, to make her improvise and reveal parts of her own knowledge that she wasn't aware that she had.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" the Asiatic boy asked after a particularly grueling bout. He had a bruise blossoming on his shoulder. Kelly rolled her own shoulders, stretching.

"Do what?" she asked in return, unsure of what he meant. The witch mentally reviewed the spar, a frown flickering on her lips. Most of their fight had been spent flowing around each other, or throwing feints at their opponent. The cause of his bruise was a twisting throw to the mats, where he landed awkwardly.

"That throw." JunJie stretched, trying to roll the ache out of the limb. He seemed visibly impressed, more so than usual. Kelly offered a half shrug, not entirely certain herself. Fighting like this – in close quarters – was something Aloe had learned later in life; that throw, however, was not something she remembered Aloe learning. Now that she thought on it, a fair number of her moves weren't ones she recalled learning in her 'previous life'.

"Again? Or would you like a break?" she asked of her squadmate. He rolled his shoulder experimentally, then nodded, settling into a ready stance.

By contrast, Walter gave Kelly the _least_ amount of trouble. He was strong, she'd give him that, but he wasn't quick, nor was he flexible, not at all like JunJie. Walter was better suited to his potential as a heavy weapons specialist. He had a good arm, for grenades, and a good eye for aiming rocket and grenade launchers. He still improved – Kelly wouldn't let him _not_ improve, after all. Just not as much as JunJie, or Thomas, or even Michael did. Once Walter got his hands on someone, though, it would be the end of that fight. Unless that someone was Kelly.

(Kelly was too strong, too fast, too durable – she blamed her magic, but she couldn't blame it for her ability to fight so well. Aloe hadn't been able to. What was so different about Kelly? What made Kelly so ready to fight, what gave her these. . . techniques that she hadn't learned as Aloe? She didn't know, but she wanted to know – _needed_ to know.)

Thomas was a strategist – he learned quickly how to improvise and how to use Kelly's habits against her. He was also one to help her improve, but he helped JunJie more. She wasn't the only one they sparred against, after all – she had them spar versus each other, as well. Silva was alone, though – afraid, perhaps, or maybe she didn't realize what was going on, however doubtful that possibility was.

Sully – Michael – wasn't the best at C.Q.C., either, though he was surprisingly good at knife fighting. _His_ specialty was reconnaissance and putting together information. He was almost better than Kelly, in that respect, but he wasn't very experienced at observing people and situations. Not like her.

In their own individual areas, each could have surpassed Kelly – if not for her magic. Her magic kept her alive, kept her moving, improving her with each day passing. Sometimes, she could almost _feel_ the differences between one day and the next, but those were rare instances that Kelly was never quite sure of.

Silva ended up being brought by Thomas to the sparring sessions with little warning. Kelly had been expecting this – she knew how close the two were, comparatively speaking – and had wondered when Lasky would end up bring his friend 'into the loop', so to speak. The others were less pleased by the development, Walter most prominently so. It had taken nearly getting his ass handed to him by the girl for him to concede that her being there would help.

Between all of them, Silva was the closest to Walter, in close quarter abilities. Michael and Thomas were the next step up, then JunJie and Kelly. Orenski herself was between Kelly and Michael, in unarmed fighting.

In shooting, however. . . With the MA5B assault rifle, Silva and Orenski were the best shots with those. That's not to say Kelly was a slouch, or that any of the boys were abysmal at it, Silva and Orenski were simply better. Of course, give Kelly any pistol or sniper rifle, perhaps even a battle rifle or designated marksman rifle, and she would outshoot any in the Academy, let alone Hastati. Give Walter any heavy weapons, and he could outshoot her with those. Thomas and Michael were the least accurate, though that didn't make them any less than average.

"Kelly!" The witch turned from her desk, tilting her head in curiosity. Sully seemed peculiarly eager for her attention. She shut her notebook – where she had a written record of her squad's abilities, largely for her father's benefit, though she did use it to help plan their training – and turned fully towards her squadmate.

"We got clearance to go into the city! You wanna come?" Sully asked, nearly bouncing in place. They had permission? It wasn't often that the students of Corbulo could go into Caligula, let alone her squad. It has only happened a few times since she joined the Academy.

"Are you crazy? Of _course_ I'm going!" Kelly retorted, moving to her closet. Now. . . civilian clothes. . . She had some of those, somewhere.


	5. When You Lied

**AN: **Thank you, those of you who have reviewed! **Juoe**, I hope you continue to enjoy this! For those who don't know what a '_décolletage'_ is, it's the upper part of a woman's torso revealed by a neckline, though it's more commonly used to refer to the bit of chest between neck and breasts on a woman, as I've used here. Also, kudos to anyone who catches the non-Halo/RvB references in this chapter.

**Chapter Five: When You Lied  
**

Kelly wasn't surprised when the majority of Hastati gave surprised exclamations at the sight of scars on her arms, décolletage, and upper back. Faint, but still clear in the light of the Academy.

"What happened to you?" Walter was the first to demand, brown eyes round in his shock. The ginger seemed paler than normal, as did most of Hastati.

Kelly glanced at her father, who stood with their chaperone. The general's mouth thinned, but he gave a single curt nod, allowing her to choose what to tell them. "It's not important right now," she finally uttered, "I, for one, want to go have some fun." The witch may technically old enough to be her father's mother, but she was in the body of a young adult – why not take advantage of that while she still had the chance?

Her squad subsided, piling into the civilian-grade transport. Kelly took that time to survey her team's choice in clothing.

It was no surprise that Silva – _Chyler_ had ended up in one of the standard issue singlets, fatigue trousers, and boots, as most students waited at least until their first 'day off' to purchase civvies. Or – April was dressed similarly, more out of personal preference than any real lack of civilian clothes. Sully and Thomas both were issue singlets, as well, but they had their own jackets and jeans on, while JunJie and Walter both had a full set of civvies – jeans, t-shirts, jackets, and trainers. Kelly herself was clad in a simple blue singlet, jeans, and converse.

As if feeling the witch's eyes on them, most of her team turned to her. "You gonna tell us about those scars?" Walter finally prodded. Kelly narrowed her eyes slightly, glancing up at their escort – a tanned man, shorn hair, a typical jar-head, if not for the way he seemed so tense. One with copious experience.

"You wanna know how I got these scars?" she asked, a grim smile flashing across her face as she parroted a line from a 21st century movie. The smile widened as only one person seemed to catch the joke – their escort. Still, some of Hastati nodded, though caution became apparent on their faces.

"Surgeries," she finally admitted, "To keep me alive, when I was a kid." They exchanged looks, as if not entirely sure whether or not to believe her. Kelly shrugged, not sure what else to tell them.

"Surgeries that require access to your spine? To your chest?" April asked skeptically, "I mean. . . that explains the marks on your arms, I guess."

Kelly nodded. "It's not as if they could access my organs otherwise. Same for the spine – they needed access, mostly to ensure it wasn't damaged or degrading, like my organs had been."

"Wait, wait, hold on!" exclaimed JunJie, "If your organs were failing, you had to have been in the hospital for – how long? Months at least – years, most likely. How did you manage to get into the Academy?" Right. Right. How to say this. . .

"We're in Caligula," their escort interrupted, "Where to first? I'm a bit hungry, myself." Half of Hastati turned to him, startled, as if they had forgotten his presence. Kelly took the opportunity to pull her hair out of its braid, running her hand through the loose black locks hastily. They would cover most of her scarring.

"I would suggest the Torn Balteus for food, maybe drinks. They have television, as well," she offered when no one spoke up, "If not that, then we can probably go pick up some things for the freshmen. They should have points by now."

"You're changing the subject," Sully pointed out sourly. The witch nodded amicably, tilting her head as she thought of what to tell them.

"Her father _is_ the general, you know," their escort chimed in, drawing their attention to him. Kelly found herself thankful that she didn't have to point that out.

"I wanted to join the military," she elaborated quietly, "And he had hoped that the Academy would dissuade me. Then he and all the others who had doubted me were proven wrong. I am a good soldier – I can be a great soldier. He stopped trying to get me to quit."

"What caused your. . ." Sully trailed off, clearly uncertain how to phrase what he wanted to know. Kelly assumed he meant her organ failure.

"The doctors called it the 'Black Button malfunction'," the witch reluctantly offered the lie, "They said my organs had aged prematurely due to some mistake by my chromosomes or telomeres, or something. They said it wasn't very common." She shrugged, looking away from her squad.

"Where do you want to go?" Kelly _really_ needed to find out the name of their escort. She also needed to thank him, for trying to shift the subject away from her. . . past. Her partial truths and half lies. She gave her squad a questioning look.

"Food or shopping?" she asked her squad, looking at them curiously. The boys groaned simultaneously.

"Can't we do something _fun_? That's the whole reason we're here, right?" Walter demanded, nearly pouting.

"There's billiards and bowling," Kelly offered, "And paint-ball games – quite similar to our active weapons training. Most of the 'fun' stuff is either drinking or war-like, geared towards soldiers."

"Don't forget the card games," the escort added. The witch nodded amicably, "And card games of varying sorts, on which one can bet their points or money, if they have it." She usually didn't play cards – had odd turns of luck, most of the time, though the games were quite fun with others.

"How old are you kids, anyway?" the older man – the soldier asked.

"Why?" Walter wondered.

"So he can know if you're allowed to drink alcohol. Orenski and I can, sir, I don't think they can."

The soldier sighed heavily. "Of course they can't. That takes half the fun out of getting leave." Kelly found herself smiling.

"Let's get food. We can look at clothes and shit later," Walter decided for them. No one protested. They had all day, after all.

"Food it is."


	6. You Really

**AN:** Thank you again, those of you who reviewed! **Opinr**, I hope you continue to enjoy Azuveya :] OH! And I forgot that FFN doesn't have tags like AO3, so – Expect everyone to live. Seriously. Super-Kelly's not gonna let anyone die without a damn good fight, at very least. And her being there changes _everything_. _COVER IMAGE COURTESY OF MIS-KIN ON DEVIANTART!_

**Chapter Six: You Really**

Hastati plus escort were crowded around a table, most laughing or at least smiling as Kelly regaled them with tales of the previous squad and the pranks pulled on her when she joined the team. And, of course, the revenge pranks she pulled on them.

As the waitress came around, the witch turned to their escort, a sheepish expression in place. Before she could speak, however, the man held out his hand, a rakish smirk in place. "John Forge."

Kelly felt a flush creep up her cheeks, and tried to banish it as she took his hand. "Kelly Black, as you know." April nudged her, gesturing to the waitress. The witch offered up a broader smile. "I'd like a korobela – you still have that right? – and a glass of water. As for food, I think the adana and patlıcan kebabs sounds good." The waitress – Bethany, if Kelly recalled correctly – nodded as well, taking a brief look at the witch's identification to make sure she could have the korobela, a fairly strong alcoholic drink.

Forge was quick to order his own food – the Greek moussaka, a sort of casserole, and rice, in addition to his own Ginger Yule drink – and the waitress bustled off to turn their order in.

April scoffed lightly, having not ordered any alcohol. "You're missing out," Kelly informed her semi-seriously, her smile shifting to a light-hearted smirk as she glanced over at the rest of Hastati. Some – Walter, mostly – seemed inordinately jealous of her ability to consume alcohol. The older woman cast him a questioning glance, only to turn away as Forge brushed her shoulder, bringing her attention to him.

"I've seen you fighting – you're good," he offered. Kelly tilted her head slightly, trying to remember if she had seen him in the training room, but she didn't often pay attention to who was in the room while she was sparring.

"Sparring," she finally corrected, earning a look of confusion. "I was sparring, not fighting," she explained, "I have to hold back while sparring – they're not ready for it." The witch glanced over at her team. Walter, Michael, Thomas, and Chyler were deep in discussion, gesturing wildly. From what she could hear, they were arguing about what aspect of their skills were the most valuable. She would have to tell them any over-specialization was deadly for them. Later, of course. When she would be teaching them.

"Who else have you sparred against, then? Anyone better than them?" Forge asked, drawing her eyes back to him.

"Our melee instructor, David Carradine, and some of his assistants. They pose a bit more of a challenge," she offered, rolling her shoulder in a shrug. Kelly was very good – through practice and through her instincts. Aloe helped a fair amount, in this respect. Experience was always useful.

Forge's eyes narrowed, but a sharp shout from Chyler cut him off. Kelly turned to her squadmates. "Settle down!" she snapped at them, instantly quieting them. Her eyes shifted onto each of them, a light glare in place. "We are not at the academy. We are in public. We are not in a bar, and this isn't leave to be as disruptive as you like. Understood?"

They all looked at each other nervously, then back to her. "We didn't mean for it to get so out of hand," Chyler finally offered, "We just. . . What 'class' of soldier do you think is most effective, ma'am?" Kelly almost physically recoiled at the 'ma'am'.

"The one able to do anything the situation calls for. And don't call me 'ma'am' – I'm not your leader," she replied, a touch curtly, but then softened the scolding with a half-smile, "I'm hardly fit to lead a squad. Teach, train, perhaps, but not lead."

Thankfully, the waitress came back then, saving her from their replies, at least for a few moments. Apparently April had ordered an entrée – a large basket of potato wedges with garlic and sea salt on them, if she was right – and told the group that they could have some. Kelly helped herself, setting aside her korobela for now.

It was a few minutes before Forge nudged her. With a quiet sigh, she turned to the admittedly handsome man.

"You don't do yourself credit, you know," he told her. She offered a shrug. "Seriously. The best leaders are people like you. You might not realize it, but you would be a great officer."

"Perhaps," Kelly allowed, "But I don't want to send anyone to their deaths. I'd much rather be a teammate, and not the team leader."

The witch was glad when her team – plus their chaperone – let the subject drop, instead delving into a discussion of tactics. How, Kelly wasn't quite sure, but it did prove to be fruitful for Hastati. Forge watched all of them, a sort of bemused look on his face, as if he didn't quite understand them.

After they had eaten, they went to the local points-exchange store – Churchill's Surplus, named so in spite of the fact most of it _wasn't_ surplus goods. As Kelly was wont to do, she wandered over to the weapons section, looking over the proprietor's small melee weapons – the knives, mostly. She almost missed Forge following her, also examining the knives.

"That one would suit you." The witch followed Forge's pointing finger, examining the blade in question. Kelly did like the look of it, but she knew little of knife fighting, despite her desire to learn. She told her chaperone as much, and earned a smirk. "Well, you're in luck," he informed her, "Because I'm a pretty decent hand at knife fighting. How willing are you to learn?"

Kelly was almost certain her eyes were wide. None of the other instructors – or even her father – were willing to teach her. Then this man came along, and offered to do so? It almost seemed too good. "What would you want in return?" she asked, falling back on caution.

Forge's smirk broadened. "Well, for starters you can call me John." She felt her face contort slightly, reflecting her confusion. She hadn't even addressed him specifically – how could he know she would use 'Forge' or his rank, Lance Corporal, instead of his first name?

"You call most of your squad by their last names," the man offered, "Secondly. . .You have to do your best. No holding back with me, got it?"

The witch thought over the offer, despite her eagerness to just say 'yes' and leap at it. Not holding back could be extraordinarily dangerous, for both parties. Kelly found that she didn't mind as much as she probably ought to.

"Alright, John," she finally agreed, glancing back at the knife, "I'll let you teach me." The witch looked back at him just in time to see the smirk shift into something more predatory.

_Oh, dear. Why do I feel as if I just stepped into a trap?_

**AN: **Remember: QUESTIONS AND COMMENTS ARE WELCOME! Even if you give an anon review, I still appreciate any sort of feedback!


	7. Never Quite Awake

**AN: **Sorry this took so long to upload. Had to a fix a few things, and I've been otherwise occupied in real life, though I doubt that my excuses are of any interest to any of you. Mostly an introspective chapter for Aloe/Kelly.

**Chapter Seven: Never Quite Awake**

The reason Kelly had felt as if she had stepped into a trap, is because she pretty much had. John was taking the opportunity to be as close as physically possible, and was. . . _flirting_. The witch sighed, only regretting her decision a little bit. She had a bit of trouble trying to figure out what to do with John's undesired – _mostly_ undesired – attentions, but she certainly wasn't going to go to Orenski or Silva about them, let alone any of the female instructors. Or worse, her _father_. That wouldn't end well on any account, let alone on John's.

A true frown flickered onto her face. Kelly had been very purposefully _not-thinking _about Aloe or her past as a witch. What little research she had been able to conduct on Earth's past while off of Earth indicated that there was no magic here – wherever _here_ was in comparison to where she had come from, where she had died.

Still, Aloe had left behind a child – adopted, but still her own – that Kelly had found no records of. She was almost positive that magic did not exist here, beyond her and her abilities to heal. There was nothing to say that it did, and nearly everything to say that it didn't. (Aloe had set forth plans for revealing themselves – in a limited capacity, of course – that were well underway by the time she had been ki-died. By the time she had _died_.)

Not to mention Kelly didn't want to consider some of her. . . skills. Their origin, that is. Aloe had some close quarter abilities, but not to _this_ extent. Then, of course, there was the matter of her dreams. Their similarity to her visions of _Voldemort_ were unsettling, though they were seemingly benign, beyond being centered on her being a soldier, on being taller and stronger and _faster_. Were they what pushed her magic to have her be better? But – if they were, then where were they from? Did she have some subconscious feeling of inadequacy? Or was it from the illnesses?

Bah. Kelly doubted that she would find out anytime soon. Her duty, in this new life she had been granted by whatever powers may be, was to _protect_ – as it had been, and as it always would be. If it meant killing, then so be it. She was a soldier, she had always been a soldier. (Kelly ignored the traitorous little whisper in the back of her head that insisted, _'No, no – you're a survivor. Not a soldier, a _survivor_!'_, because it was _wrong_. Survivors didn't protect others – they cared only for themselves. _Voldemort_ had been a survivor. She wasn't. She _wasn't_.)

Kelly's abilities were bittersweet. Some of those at the Academy were – dare she say – jealous of her abilities. Her own squad may have been, if she wasn't working so hard to get them close to her level. The once-witch was doing no such favours to those outside of her squad. Except, perhaps John, but he hardly counted. He wasn't a student, he was already a soldier.

Still. The dreams that plagued her with increasing frequency were almost concerning, but. . . perhaps they were to be expected. Aloe knew war, and Kelly had seen the effects of Insurrectionist attacks. Dreams of humans dying was nothing new. It was the people beside her that drew her concern. John. Sam. Fred. William, Anton, Daisy, Kurt, dozens of names and faces of comrades that she _knew_ in her dreams, but didn't in reality. It took her writing the names in a second journal – not her 'work' one – for her to even attribute names to faces and sometimes even _numbers._ Who would go by a number? It seemed so out of place, even in the military.

Oh, there she had gone again. Thinking as if her dreams were reality. They _weren't_. It was probably just her brain coming up with peculiar and out-there comparisons. Again. Kelly huffed in anger, nearly throwing one of her many books across the room. Instead, she placed it on her desk, flopping onto her bed with a small sigh of relief. Her entire situation was unbelievable. She should just be grateful that she was alive. She _tried_ to be– it's just. . . The need for answers nearly burned in her.

_Why here?_

_Why now?_

_Was she supposed to do something for 'them'?_

_Was this just a second chance at life?_

_Why let her keep her memories?_

_Why give her a semblance of her magic?_

_Why place her in a sickly body?_

_Why give her these strange instances of almost-knowing?_

_Why give her a family?_

_Why take away that family in another war?_

_Why were people still fighting?_

_Why was she so strong physically now?_

_Where were the other magicals?_

_Was there any magic here at all?_

_. . . Did they miss her?_

_What happened to the people she left behind?_

_Did the people she loved die peacefully?_

The questions tormented her mind, no answers in sight.

This was the uncertainty she had tried to avoid, in not thinking of Aloe, in not touching Aloe's memories. If not for how happy she was being alive again, Kelly could have called this 'Hell'. Knowing nothing of her family and friends, not being able to rejoin her parents, Sirius, Remus, and countless others. . .

But this wasn't hell. This was. . . This was Kelly's 'next great adventure', so to speak. Such a trite sentiment, but it was what sprang to mind. This is why she dwelled on the present and tried to help her people. If war was to happen, she would have them ready. If they wished to die a good death – for others, as she had – she would help them stave that off until it was a necessity.

This is what Kelly sought to do. She would make them strong. She would be strong. And she would live – if not for herself, then for the people she fought for.

She could live with that.

**AN:** Question and comments are always welcome! I hope you enjoyed this chapter :D


	8. And I Woke Up

**AN: **Thank you, **George**, for reviewing, and thanks to all the people who favorite/followed!

**Chapter Eight: And I Woke Up**

In spite of Kelly's assistance, her squad didn't always listen to her. She knew that. Her father knew that. Orenski knew that. Problem was, Kelly also knew that Sully opting to hack into ONI was likely going to track unwanted attention to the team. (_ONI is trouble_, her father insisted, _You steer clear of them, you hear?_) Even the fleeting sense of recognition when she saw the soldier clad in green armour wasn't worth attracting that sort of attention to her.

It would figure that the next day was a meeting between Kelly and the general, and it would figure that would be the day everything would be going to hell in a handbasket decorated with bits of blood and glass. _Gallows humour. Akin to an apple, but with insanity instead of a doctor._ When the alarms had begun to ring, she had been talking to her father, listening to him congratulate her on just how much Hastati had improved in the time he had provided. He had sent a recommendation on ahead, ready for when Kelly graduated, so she could get into training soldiers if she so desired. Then, John had listened as she had laid out her plans to remain with Hastati after graduation, only to explain that _That's not how it works, Kelly. You'll be graduating at a different time than they are, despite their scores. You wouldn't even be staying with Cadet Orenski._

Her dreams had lied again, then. They had displayed people – teens, mostly – being trained and remaining in their squads for the most part. But, before Kelly could speak – could question – the alarms had gone off and the general had ordered her to find her squad for evacuation, something flickering in his dark eyes. _He knows what is happening. He knows why the alarms are ringing, knows that something is amiss. He has to. He's _the_ General, the head of Corbulo Academy,_ Kelly thought, even as she bolted through the halls of the academy. People were screaming and gunfire was echoing even before she had reached her squad.

Orenski was directing Hastati towards the Tether – to the orbital elevator – through the crowds of soldiers and academy attendees. Kelly shifted through people, arriving at her team leader. From there, things began to blur, time consuming each development (that girl from Fretensis Squad, Solkolova, Chalnova, Tchalinkova, _something along those lines_, completely bypassed everyone else in the line, but she died – fell – when the Tether was broken) as it occurred, each being filed away as she manoeuvered her shell-shocked squad back through the crowds of soldiers and to-be-soldiers.

The screams of men and women falling and thudding onto the roof of Corbulo and onto the surrounding grounds would be something that haunted Kelly until the end of her days – perhaps beyond, as well. She could do nothing to help them (_As Aloe hadn't been able to help in the early days of the War_) and trudged on, locking away each emotion, each thought or feeling that would be a detriment to her fighting. (She couldn't do anything to stop the protectiveness, though. Wouldn't. That was what made her a not-survivor.) Gunmetal green eyes picked out the warriors falling, the human screams fading to even her ears.

"It's so quiet," Lasky noted shakily. Kelly made a gesture to silence him, knowing that if it was so quiet. . . The fighting was largely over. Occasionally, a yell reached her perked ears, only to be swiftly cut off. They were combing the Academy even now. The once-witch wished she could protect all sides of the group, but – well, she couldn't. At least she could guide them away from danger and to their weapons lockers. More than once, the group almost ran afoul of some creature – some _alien_ – that moved quietly, but not enough. Kelly could _hear_ its equipment humming in the near-silence of the Academy, especially since she concentrated on anything that could affect their survival.

"How the hell did we not notice just how much better you are?" Walter hissed, agitated and. . . Hmm. Exhausted. Upset, of course – grieving. He had friends outside of Hastati, unlike her. Kelly cast him a brief glance, brows raised with mild incredulity. This wasn't exactly the time to be inquiring after the obvious, after all.

Orenski scoffed, "She didn't _want_ you to notice. She practices in her spare time, when she isn't holed up in her room writing in her journal or talking to her father." The woman had a point, Kelly admitted to herself. If they had noticed to the extent she had been better than them – at least in the beginning – it could have discouraged them from improving themselves. Could have just as easily been the opposite, but. . . She hadn't wanted to take the risk at the time. Seems a bit silly in hindsight, however.

"Shh," Kelly whispered as they came close to the lockers containing their gear. She heard the light footsteps of one of the aliens, then a soft 'buzz'-like noise. Its footsteps faded, but the humming did not. She closed her eyes, keeping track of it as it moved closer, then further away. Walter shifted, then stilled as Orenski gripped his arm tightly. Kelly silently pulled a piece of rubble – a pebble, really – from her pocket, biding her time. The humming continued to fade, finally leaving her range of hearing. The pebble went back to her pocket, her fingers brushing over the knife in her boot for a moment. With a brief shake of her head, Kelly led the group on, to the room containing their equipment, bypassing the patrolling alien.

"Get the lockers open," Kelly hissed to Orenski as Lasky and herself went to the door's control panel, setting out a distress signal. There was a brief scuffle – further down the hall, a scream echoed. Hastati as a whole paused, listening. Glass crashed – their bunk doors, Kelly thought, as that was the closest source of so much glass. The door quickly hissed shut. The witch – once-witch? Healer? – darted to her locker, punching in its code and pulling it open, then yanking on her gear.

Orenski let out a frustrated yell, immediately slapping her hand over her mouth with wide eyes darting towards the door. Silence rang out. "I can't access the live ammunition," the squad leader hissed after a long moment, "Kelly, do you –"

The witch shook her head. "We can pick up weapons, then. We need to –" _Clang._ Everyone's eyes darted towards the door. _Clang_. Dust – dry wall? – shook down from the wall above the door. Kelly yanked her knife out of her boot, gesturing for everyone to hide. JJ and Walter hid behind the nearest lockers along with her, while Thomas, Chyler, April, and Michael ducked behind the other row. She glanced at Walter – at the fire extinguisher in his hands – then listened carefully as the door was actually _beat down_ by the alien. _Strong. How quickly can it move? Faster than a human? Faster than me? Most of the team is closer to the door. I could distract it. Maybe. Or we might all die, because I'm not fast enough to avoid the creature, and it would chase down the rest. I don't know anything about its internal organs, or sensitive spots. If humanoid – if biped, I'd say that vulnerable points are similar to a human's, but there's a risk that they aren't. Of course, that's a risk that will have to be taken either way. _

Kelly reached out, gently taking the fire extinguisher from Walter's hands, gesturing for the pair to be silent and to be ready. She waited until they nodded, even as she heard a harsh whisper from the other side of the room – _Its right there_, Thomas told his group. _It can hear you_, Kelly thought anxiously, shifting around to look toward the front of the room. Sparks fell onto the cloaked alien – _Cloak. Like Aloe's invisibility cloak, but noisier. _– revealing its position to her. With a heave, she chucked the canister towards it, flinching slightly as something glowing darted from the suddenly uncloaked alien, imbedding itself in the canister and causing it to explode in a flurry of white as its contents depressurized.

The healer darted forward, knife in hand, hoping that the alien didn't have another throwing knife of any sort. There seemed to be a lot of gaps in its armour, ones that she quickly took advantage of. _Death by a thousand paper cuts, if need be._ It cried out in what seemed like anger after the first six of her rabbit-punch strikes were diverted by some sort of force field – _A __**shield**__? Technology is that advanced? Perhaps for them. _– and the seventh scored a fair-sized wound on the inside of its elbow. Even its voice was utterly alien, warbling oddly even as its lower mandibles spread it what seemed like a challenge. Gunmetal green eyes tracked its hands and feet, not watching it head for cues that may confuse her (_Alien. It had completely different training. Intimidating thought,_ Kelly admitted to herself.).

"Go!" she growled to Hastati. They didn't move. The alien unleashed some sort of white glowing sword, steam rising off of it menacingly. _Bloody fucking hell._ It was nearly as long as she was tall, and by the way it held the sword, it was very proficient with the weapon. Kelly had _never_ needed to battle a swordsman before, though Aloe had some meagre training in that aspect. A shiver wracked down her spine.

"_Go!"_ she barked out again, just as she darted (hopefully) under the alien's guard. The sword hissed, skittering over her armour, causing it to bubble and crack from the heat. She had felt that heat through the armour's layers, down to her sinew. _Very, __**very**__ dangerous._ The members of Hastati closest to the door nearly fell out at the scrambled to follow her order (_finally)_, leaving her to lure the alien away from JJ and Walter so they could escape. It began to turn, making Kelly growl thunderously, attacking its exposed side viciously. Her blade sunk deeply, wrenching a howl of pain from the creature. The boys darted past the struggling duo, towards relative safety. The sword flicked towards Kelly again, dangerously quick. This time, Kelly managed to avoid all of it, though it made her hair burn at points, even while in her braid. _Long hair is an indulgence,_ she knew. Hopefully she wouldn't pay for it today. Another swipe – this one doubled back, striking across her face and sending her helmet clattering to the floor as it cut the straps. Agony lit up across her face, a ragged yell wrenching itself from her lips. The alien seemed to laugh.

_Fine. __**Fine.**__ You want it to be that way? You got it, you cockbite._ Kelly pulled her lips back into a snarl, letting the agony fuel her rage. _This was __**her**__ planet, __**her**__ people, and they __**dared**__ to come and slaughter what was hers? _She lashed out again, scoring a long gash across its armour and arm, sending purple-blue blood across the floor and herself. Its laugh cut into a howl, which in turn was abruptly cut off as it froze. An armoured hand – a _human_ hand – was wrapped around its throat. Both dropped after a long moment of silence.

A shudder ran through Kelly's form, her rage now lacking a ready outlet. The (_familiar_) green-armoured man with **117** emblazoned upon his chestplate stared at her wordlessly, Hastati peaking almost fearfully from behind him. "Oh my god, Kelly! Are you alright? We tried to hurry –" April exclaimed, being the first to dart around to her. Kelly forced the snarl off of her face, casting her eyes down to the alien. _Severed the spinal column. Might still be alive in mind._ She bent down, turning its head. It blinked at her, helpless rage in its cat-like eyes. _Green. Like mine._ She lifted her blade, and sank it through its eye socket. It seemed to shiver, then fell completely still. _All creatures of Earth and its colonies had weak points behind the eyes, where the nerves connected to the brain, if they were vertebrates. This alien seems to be no different._

"K-Kelly?" Orenski asked hesitantly. "'M fine," the witch grunted, reaching up to brush a hand over the rapidly numbing portion of her face and neck. A near-straight line of cauterized flesh was split from just above the corner of her mouth to past the bottom of her ear. It would have taken off the top half of her head, if she hadn't moved. Another shudder. She had been so close to dying. If John hadn't given her those lessons. . . her chances would have dropped significantly.

"Get your weapons," 117 stated, voice a low (_familiar_) growl. "Th-The lockers – we don't have the code," April stuttered, turning wide brown eyes onto the soldier, even as Kelly moved over to said lockers. 117 followed, then _ripped_ the door from its hinges. The healer murmured a quick _thanks_, pulling out one of the pistols and some of its ammunition. Most – all – of the others on Hastati grabbed MA5s – assault rifles – and their corresponding ammunition. She debated doing the same for a moment, but knew she was far better at aiming with a pistol of any sort.

"He said he's called 'Chief'," Lasky muttered to her, "He said we're the only ones left alive on the _entire planet!_" The. . . entire planet?

"W's th'gener'l evac'd?" she slurred out, turning her gaze to the Chief. He gave a shrug, rolling his shoulders. _No. I don't think he was,_ she thought, rage brimming her core. Oh, she was grateful of the time she had with her family this time around, but. . . that didn't make her any less angry at the ones who took them away.

"You good, Cadet Black?" the soldier inquired at her silence.

"Fine," she grunted, then gestured to the seared gash along her face, rolling her eyes emphatically.

"We'll be heading to the warthogs. Your squad claims you can drive," 117 stated flatly. A nod from her. As Aloe, she hadn't driven very much, if at all, but here, as Kelly? It was the closest she could get to flying without a permit for it, which she had planned to get after Corbulo. The likelihood of that happening seemed significantly smaller, now.

The chief took them on a route winding away from the Tether. As they bypassed bodies, Kelly snatched up what ammo and grenades she could, including a spare pistol – not an M6D, but a magnum from one of the ODST's corpses. She also grabbed what dogtags she could, out of respect. Her squad helped as much as they could, though the chief seemed to ignore their actions. The pace he set was steady, ground eating (and _familiar_). Soon enough, they were outside. Occasionally, something flashed in the healer's peripherals, making her twitchy. _War never changes,_ she thought with grim humour.

They reached a warthog, a familiar one. Pink flashed out of the corner of her eye, a colour she remembered seeing through windows. Her pistols snapped out, hitting the shooter within three barks of sound, hitting one alien – more birdlike, this time – in its skull, a feat even she was impressed by – as Michael cried out in pain. She knew without looking that he would be pulled into cover by Thomas. Her eyes flickered over the academy's grounds, searching for any sign of movement, her pistols ready. (_The magnum had more of a kick than she was used to, but she liked it. The kick and the weight felt right._) Two more of the bird-like beings were on a rooftop. She took care of them, as well, carefully taking her shots. A flurry of brilliant green (echoes from Aloe and the dreams threatened to take over, but she shoved them away) came from the Academy itself. Relatively small and stout beings in red and orange came out, bizarre barks and yelps falling from their maws, small semi-circles being the source of green.

"Get the 'hog ready! I'll draw them off!" the chief ordered, darting away before any of them could protest. With a prayer to anything listening, Kelly began to bark out orders – this was _war_ and none of her squad were ready for it. They still were shocked by being the only ones left capable of sending a distress signal.

"Orenski, Silva, get suppressive fire on whatever comes close. Lasky, check Sully's wound. JJ, Vick, make sure nothing sneaks up on us." Kelly herself moved to the warthog, removing the bodies from the vehicle. It contained an ODST – on the gun, with another magnum that she appropriated alongside her tags – one of the Academy soldiers – tags were taken, eyes were shut, body laid out beside the ODST's – and. . . her father. A full-body shudder ran through her without any impendence. Tags taken – placed around her neck – as was his pocket watch – silver or pewter, something passed down for ages – went under her armour, into a pocket. He was placed beside his soldiers, eyes respectfully closed and a kiss placed on his bloodied forehead. _Goodbye, Father. Rest in peace with Mother, please._

Determination converted Kelly's white-hot anger to ice. She hoisted herself into the driver's seat, starting up the modified 'hog with a growl of its engine. Hastati clambered into the vehicle, Silva up front with her while the remainder crammed into the back between the gun and the front seats. It was a bit of a tight fit, as 117 nearly dove into the back, making the 'hog groan and dip under his weight. _Heavy. 250 kilos? Maybe more?_

"Punch it!" the soldier ordered. Kelly punched it, tires squealing slightly as she fishtailed away from the Academy.

"Evac point?" she called back.

"Pelican drop point in the woods, eight klicks out," he replied. That would be. . . Landing Zone Alpha-3, then. Kelly sent the 'hog into a slide, letting the siding hit one of the smaller aliens as it emerged from the trees. The bright circle on its wrist – a hand-held shield of some sort – popped, and it flew into a tree with a vicious cacophony of snapping. She heard more than one whimper from Hastati, though Silva's was most prominent.

A bolt of green flew out of the woods, larger than any such thing thus far. Try as she might, Kelly wasn't able to avoid it, though slamming on the brakes meant it simply sent the vehicle rolling instead of killing all of them. Perhaps all but the armoured one, anyway. As it was, Kelly was pretty sure she broke her wrist – the left one, the mostly dominant one – upon landing, as well as bruising her ribs on the side of the warthog and the tree she tumbled into. A quick glanced showed most of Hastati was alright, though Silva was cradling her right hand and Sully was sprawled on his back. Vickers was hovering over him, while Lasky was doing the same next to Silva, and Orenski was in a crouch, MA5B in hand as she scanned the woods.

"Keep going," 117 (_John_, her memory-dreams murmured insistently) growled, "I'll catch up." Kelly took a fortifying breath, mentally shaking away the dreams, and gathered up her squadmates, forcing them to _move_. She didn't know how long until the pelican would leave, but they _would_ make it in time. They had to.

They made it a fair distance before the chief caught up with them – the squad was taking a minute breather in one of the shelters located on the paintball fields. It was a ten minute walk to LZ A-3, fifteen with Sully's leg being as hurt as it was. If they helped him along – half-carrying him – it might be less.

"You all okay?" 117-_John_ asked, gold visor scanning over the group. Kelly's spine stiffened as she nodded curtly, lips pursed. Silva let out a low yell as Lasky pulled a twig from her hand, but the younger woman grunted an affirmative, as did most of Hastati. They all had blood and dirt and sweat on them, as was wont to happen during battle, or even fleeing for their lives as they were. "Let's keep moving, then. Keep close." And they set off again, adrenaline keeping them going for now. _Things could be a lot worse, _Kelly mused,_ At least all of us are alive._

Another roar split the air just as they reached a small cliff. Kelly saw most of the team hesitate. "You remember how we practiced falling?" she asked them, eyes darting over them to land on Sully. His leg would make this the most difficult for him – not impossible. Her wrist was a touch. . . ah, problematic, as well, but she was quite used to operating with broken limbs (as Aloe) or in pain (as both Aloe and Kelly). She doubted most of the others were.

Still, nods and affirmatives were given, and her squad began to drop down. A quick glance behind showed an aura of brilliant green – _Advada Kedavra _green – was fast approaching. Kelly looked to the Chief. "Did you need anything, sir?" she inquired. He gestured to the grenade bandolier she had snagged from a corpse, currently looped around her hips. She unbuckled it, handing it over without a word. "Don't take too long," she stated, moving to the edge of the cliff.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Kelly just barely heard him mutter. A smile – more of a smirk – flickered across her lips. She leapt, cradling her arm to her abdomen carefully.

Hastati Squad half-ran, half-jogged towards the evacuation point at the behest of Kelly. Sully occasionally whimpered, but he held it together better than he would have if she hadn't gotten her hands on him. Hadn't beat him to near unconsciousness each time they sparred for her 'skill assessments', a free-for-all between Hastati as a whole once everyone had opted to join. _Pain is a reminder – let it flow through you, do not let_ _it disable you. Do not try to stop it. That will make it worse. Just. . . Accept the pain for what it is – a warning, a sign, that you are alive. That you can still fight. Do not let that pain consume you._

Kelly was confident they would escape. That the chief would, as well. She felt like it was in their nature to survive, to help others survive. Perhaps that was merely wishful thinking, but. . . she believed it. The heavy footsteps – _familiar, and yet not_ – of the chief made the healer relax imperceptibly. She had been hoping he would catch up soon, and he had. It didn't take long for them to finally arrive at LZ A-3, for them to meet up with _087_ and _104_. The latter number was associated with the name _Fred_ and _Frederic_, but the first. . . the first is the number she had associated with _self_ and _Kelly_, yet there they stood, clearly separate. As if she needed more proof that she was not _087_ and that she didn't truly know 117 or 104.

The question was. . . How were they connected? How was Kelly gaining access to 087's memories? She shook her head, keeping her eyes away from 087's visor, discomfited by the soldier and their connection. She sat herself in the pelican, waiting for it to leave, attempting to search her mind for the connection to her. . . to 087. Kelly gave a quiet sigh of relief as the aircraft began to lift off.

'_I don't understand. She looks like me. If she's my clone, how did she survive this long? She should have degraded __**years**__ ago, according to the doctor.'_

_What the bloody __**fucking**__ hell?_

**AN:** Leave a comment, yeah? Questions are welcome, obviously. You spot anything wrong, tell me!

So. Yeah. Hope this didn't cause spoilers for anyone, but I _did_ warn everyone in previous ANs. If you didn't read them, well, that's your own fault, isn't it?

JJ was originally supposed to die, even in this AU, but Kelly-Aloe was like _he_ _liiiives!_, so . . . I just said 'okay'. But, hey, the Circinius IV arc is done! Now onto the interim between Circinius and Reach, which in all should cover. . . eh, 2526 - 2552 – twenty-six years total. Most of it will be skimmed over, important bits being included in some way, shape, or form, either in the next few chapters or as flashbacks/memories/dreams as the story continues.

Combat orientated chapters will tend to be longer, but don't rely on that. They'll also take a touch longer to get out, as writing combat is in no way my specialty.


	9. Keep Me Out

**AN: **Thanks to those of you who chose to review, and for all of you who have so far favorite! I'm sorry if my first aid in this chapter is inaccurate. If you know the proper way, please tell me!

**Chapter Nine: Keep Me Out**

It took a. . . fair amount of time to reach their 'safe haven', the UNSC light frigate, _Nevermore. _In those hours, Kelly did her damnedest to find the source of the 'leak' between her and her body's potential original. (_And didn't __**that**__ make for a confusing sentence?_) Once she had found it, the efforts to 'plug' or close it were met with failure.

"Let me see your hand." Kelly started, casting her attention out-ward again. 104 (_Fred_) was kneeling in front of her, a medkit on the floor next to him, and her arm was already offered into the space between them.

"It's fractured," she stated, "At the scaphoid and the radius." The burn along her face cracked, allowing blood to well up, then slide down her cheek and neck. 104 looked up, a frown that she could almost _see_ behind his visor as his fingers fluttered briefly, as if in agitation. 087 – the other Kelly, the _original_ Kelly – stood, making her way over to them.

"Did you need help?" 087-Kelly asked, directing the question to 104-Fred, visor directed at her fellow soldier.

"Probably," 104 stated simply, then turned to Kelly – the one with Aloe, not the one with armour – and said, "You mind?" She shook her head, even though her eyes darted between the two uncertainly.

'_It's almost like she's afraid of us. But why would she be? John said she had no problems with __**him**__, hell, she had no problems facing an __**Elite**__,'_ 087's thoughts trailed into Kelly's, causing the witch to grimace as the lines between them blurred faintly, memories of 087's conversation with 117 hitching a ride on those words. At least their mental voices seemed to be different. _Felt _different, anyway.

_Not __**afraid**__, not of you. Afraid of what may happen,_ Kelly thought, a mental sigh accompanying her musing.

'_. . . __**What**__?'_

Kelly grimaced again as the other's fingers tightened briefly on her chin, gauntlet digging into her flesh. Had 087 actually heard that? The connection wasn't only one-way?

'_You. . . We – We can __**hear**__ each other?' _And _that_ was a confirmation if Kelly-Aloe ever heard one.

_Yes, though it seems spotty,_ Kelly replied, mental voice quiet, _I never heard you before all of __**this**__ happened, though I did have. . . dreams._

A barely-there tremor seemed to run through 087, causing 104 to shift slightly towards her, in spite of his careful prodding at Kelly's wrist.

'_Of my training?'_ 087 wondered.

_Of __**being**__ you. Of being Kelly-087 of Camp Lacedaemon instead of Cadet Kelly Black, daughter of General John Black and Eva Black, who was sickly and near death from age seven to fourteen._ Kelly didn't add in the primary difference between them – namely _Aloe _– for one simple reason: she was _already_ different. She didn't know what the other would do if she offered up Aloe and her magic.

"I'm going to try to straighten out your wrist, alright?" 104 said interrupting Kelly and Kelly's silent exchange. Both glanced at each other, the clone finally nodding in acquiescence. The red-haired man's hand gently – but firmly – manipulated Kelly-Aloe's arm, resulting in spikes of pain that the woman had some difficulty in suppressing. She already knew that at least one noise had left her – a quiet whimper that she wasn't exactly proud of, but she wasn't ashamed of it, either.

'_Shhh. You'll be alright.'_ The fact that 087-Kelly somehow managed to mentally 'pet' Kelly-Aloe's mind was admittedly intimidating and disconcerting. Aloe hadn't exactly been a master with mental abilities like Legilimency and Occlumency, let alone when sharing a bond such as this, so the fact that a muggle soldier in a realm without magic could. . . Well, that was just as disconcerting as the unsealable link between them.

104-Fred began to wrap her arm as 087 secured thin gauze over the wound on Kelly's face, crooning through their connection like one would to calm a bird. The once-witch sighed, just letting them do as they liked. (_She already lived a life. Her entire family was dead now. The Humans were at war __**again**__ – hardly a surprise. And there were dozens of __**Spartans**__ out there, not just 104, 087, and 117. And she wouldn't mind resting for a bit. If Original-Kelly and Fred-104 meant her harm, would they really be treating her injuries?_)

"How long until we can actually sleep?" Vickers suddenly asked, causing her eyes to flicker over to him. In a deliberate show, Kelly settled back into her seat, free arm draped across her abdomen, and shuttered her eyes, chin dropping onto her chest. She tried to ignore the odd looks she – and the soldiers – were receiving from Hastati, instead concentrating on the pain of her arm and her ribs, keeping her breathing as steady as possible.

"How long until we reach. . . wherever we're going?" Silva corrected.

"ETA three hours, forty-two minutes," 117 offered, finally turning to face the cadets grouped towards the front of the pelican.

_Do you have a countdown on your visor?_ Kelly wondered, directing the question to 087.

_'Yes. The supervising A.I. – Virginia – has been updating our objectives as she's able.' __There was a fragmented slew of fragmented memories that accompanied 087's reply, concerning varying A.I. that the Spartans had worked or trained with._

"Where are we going?" Orenski asked, her voice weary and uncertain.

"The UNSC light frigate _Nevermore_ is currently stationed behind Veritas, waiting for us." Veritas being one of the three moons, the furthest out. Fides was the closest, and Vis being the 'middle distance' one.

"How many other people survived?" Silva had been the one to ask that. No answer was forthcoming. "_How many people survived?_" the youngest woman demanded more forcefully.

"We don't know," 117 stated after another long moment, "From where this squad was deployed, only you seven were recovered alive."

In other words, not very many. "But there were people picked up from the Tether, right?" Lasky asked, voice wavering. The witch's chest tightened briefly, sorrow building.

"Maybe." Another not-answer. Kelly sent a vague query to 087 through their link, letting her eyes sliver open.

'_We really don't know. We just get sent on missions. If it isn't relevant, we don't find out until the after the fact,'_ 087 replied, one of her shoulders rolling in a shrug.

_Oh. That's a shame._ Of course, Kelly had known nearly from the beginning that a massive loss of life was going to occur. The aliens hadn't even hesitated when slaughtering humans, even if they didn't have weapons. Even if they weren't soldiers.

'_You were a cadet at Corbulo, right? That's where John had been going,' _087 half-asked.

_Yes. I always wanted to be a soldier, even before my dreams of you started, _Kelly replied, a tilt appearing on her lips. It was true. Even as Aloe, she had some desire to be a soldier or a police officer.

'_. . . Aloe?'_

Kelly really should have known better than to even try keeping a secret from someone whose mind was connected to her own.

**AN: **Questions and comments are encouraged, so please leave a review!


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